


Recital

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic [71]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Kissing, M/M, Mentors, Musicians, Prompt Fill, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Comment Fic for Myths and Legends prompt: <i>Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, the Real Folk Blues</i></p><p>In which the Conservatory holds a recital and Rodney is excellent at pep talks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recital

Rodney hated recitals. (Vandenberg Conservatory called them Showcases, but no-one was fooled by the fancier appellation.) The kids were edgy and nervous, some of the parents made ridiculous requests (“No, Stacie can’t wear her pink princess dress, she has to wear the same uniform everyone else does.”), and the teachers spent most of the day soothing ruffled feathers, dealing with panic attacks, and trying to deal with last-minute changes to the program.

All things being equal, Rodney would’ve been more than happy to skip the whole thing. As it was, he kept himself lubed up with coffee and tried not to check the time too often.

The youngest kids went first, solo performances followed by the ensembles. The other kids utilized the practice rooms, or listened to music on their electronic devices, or waited in the wings so they could peek out at the audience. Controlled chaos.

“Dr. McKay?” Divya had been running through her piece on the digital keyboard, her concentration as fierce as always. 

“It’s too late for second thoughts,” Rodney said. He was more than familiar with the uncertain expression on Divya’s face.

“But I could still do the Rachmaninov.”

“You could, and you’d do a good job. But you’ll do a _great_ job with this one.” Rodney sat down beside her at the table. “Playing piano, or any instrument, isn’t about getting everything right. You have to feel it. It has to move you. That’s the difference between a technically skilled performance, and one that gets people on their feet.”

“My parents won’t like it.” Still, she couldn’t stop her fingers from dancing across the keyboard, picking out the notes.

“They don’t have to like it. You shouldn’t play piano to impress anyone; you have to play for yourself. And if you play from your heart, that’ll be what impresses them.”

As always, Rodney gave a mental _fuck you_ to Ms. Greenblatt, his childhood piano teacher. She’d encouraged him to give up playing piano, told him he had technical skill but no heart. Instead of quitting, he’d decided to prove her wrong. He found another teacher, went to school for music, investigated every style of music until he found the one that moved him the most. And then he’d gotten a job working with musically-inclined children, doing his best to be the opposite of Ms. Greenblatt. He thought he was doing a pretty damn good job of it, too.

Divya let out a breath. “Okay. You’re right. Thanks, Dr. McKay.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m always right.” Rodney patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t overthink it.”

Rodney stayed behind the scenes for the most part, though he did provide piano accompaniment for the youth ensemble from music therapy. He was particularly proud of that program, which offered emotionally damaged kids the chance to express themselves through music. He’d never considered himself much of a people person, but somehow he had a connection with the kids; he understood them in a way a lot of adults seemed unable to.

Finally it was Divya’s turn. Rodney hovered in the wings, staying in her sightline just in case she needed some moral support.

She was playing a song from some anime show – that really wasn’t Rodney’s genre – and had done her own arrangement of the music. Mr. and Mrs. Jayashankar might not have approved of their daughter’s song choice, but she put so much emotion into the lyrics that Rodney couldn’t help but wonder what experience Divya was drawing from.

_Too much time has passed_  
_To lament that I loved you_  
_The wind’s still blowing_  
_Through the unhealed gash in my heart_

Rodney nodded along, mentally assessing her finger work, pacing, and tone. Divya was good, good enough to make a career out of playing piano. Particularly if she kept making interesting musical choices.

_The despair that grew out of hope_  
_And this chance with a trap laid in it_  
_What’s good and what’s bad?_  
_They’re two sides of the same coin_

_How long do I have to live before I’m healed?_

Divya was a triple threat: pianist, vocalist, dancer. Rodney expected great things from her.

When her song ended there was enthusiastic applause. Rodney scanned the audience for her parents, and was pleased to see that Mrs. Jayashankar was dabbing at her eyes. 

“Dr. McKay!” Divya threw her arms around him, knocking him back a step. “I was good! I was really good!”

“Told you so,” Rodney replied with a grin. “You made me proud, Lady Jay.”

Divya stretched up on her tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, and then she ran off to squeal with her friends.

There was another hour of performances to get through after that, including the adult ensembles and the veteran’s group. Afterwards there were snacks and punch, but Rodney had no interest in hanging around to talk to parents. Despite all the coffee he was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed.

He got all the way out the front door of the Conservatory before he was stopped.

“Nice show.” John was leaning against the railing on the steps, dressed in a gray suit.

“John? What are you doing here?” As always, Rodney felt a warm rush when he saw his…boyfriend? Lover? He didn’t think there was an appropriate word for what they were.

“Came for the…what do you call it? Showcase.”

“Why? I mean, I _had_ to be here. Why would you come voluntarily?”

John chuckled. “I wanted to see what it is you do, when you’re not tickling the ivories down at The Blue Lily.”

He looked around, saw they were alone, and reeled Rodney in for a quick kiss. 

“I was going home,” Rodney said, pulling back but keeping a hand on John’s hip. “Care to join me?”

“I could be persuaded.” John licked his lips.

“Jesus. Let’s get out of here before some horny mom sees you.” Rodney gave him one more kiss. “So what did you think of the performances?”

John fell into step beside him as they headed to the parking lot. “Those kids are pretty damn talented. The girl who played the _Cowboy Bebop_ song was killer.”

It figured that John would be into anime. There was more kissing, and a little groping, when they got to Rodney’s car and had to part ways, just long enough to drive back to Rodney’s place.

Rodney gave John a special recital of his own that night. He didn’t get a standing O, but he was pretty pleased with the horizontal one he got instead.

**Author's Note:**

> **Song List**
> 
> [The Real Folk Blues, Seatbelts ft. Mai Yamane](http://shell.cas.usf.edu/mccook/uwy/hyperlinks.html)


End file.
